Page 19 of Trigger's Temptation

The air changes as we step into the alley, the scent of decay hitting like a brick wall. The narrow passage is lined with overflowing garbage containers, their contents spilling out onto the cracked asphalt. The sunlight barely penetrates the grimy walls on either side, casting long shadows that make the place feel colder than it should.

The coroner is crouched by the body, their face impassive, latex-gloved hands moving with practiced efficiency. My eyes are drawn to the small figure lying lifeless on the ground, limp and discarded like yesterday’s trash.

The closer we get, the worse the stench becomes. A vile mix of rotting food, sewage, and something sharper, more sinister. I swallow hard, fighting the urge to gag as I force my focus on the scene ahead.

My chest tightens, but I can’t let it show. Not here. Not now.

Blonde hair similar to my own flutters in the slight breeze. I hold my breath and step closer, leaning over the coroner’s shoulder. “Shit.” My gut clenches with certainty. It’s Allison. I know it without a doubt.

Zach notices the turmoil on my face and steps in, his tone steady and commanding. “What do you have for us?”

The coroner looks up from where he’s hovering over the body. His gray eyebrows rise as he takes me in. I shove mytrembling hands deep into my pockets. I focus on breathing evenly, doing everything I can to keep from breaking down.

“As you know, I don’t like to assume, but from what I’m seeing, this young woman suffered severe blood loss and trauma from the stab wounds to her abdomen. Based on the blood on her thighs, she was sexually assaulted multiple times.” He adjusts his gloves and picks up her limp hand. “Her fingernails are broken and jagged, her wrists and hands bruised. She fought back. Hopefully, she left enough DNA on her attackers to help identify them. I couldn’t find any ID on her, but I’ll run her through the database.”

The coroner's words blur as I look into her lifeless eyes. Those green eyes I’ve missed so much now stare blankly at nothing. My chest tightens. I close my eyes, centering myself, and then open them again. “Does she have a butterfly tattoo on her right hip?” I manage, already knowing the answer.

The coroner shifts her slightly, revealing a small blue butterfly. “Yes, she does. How do you know?”

“Her name is Allison Greene. Twenty-six. From Trout Lake, Michigan.” My voice is steady, though every word feels like a punch to the gut. “You can confirm it.”

“Aerianna, hold on,” Zach cuts in, his tone skeptical. “You can’tknowthis is her.”

I glare at him, the truth weighing heavy on my chest. “It’s her, Zach. The question isn’t who she is. It’s who did this. Was it the Black Market Railroad, or…” I stop before I can voice aloud who I think could have killed my best friend.

Zach’s jaw tightens, and he steps closer, his voice low and resolute. “We’ll find out, Aeri, I promise. And when we do, there will be hell to pay.” He places a hand on my shoulder, guiding me away from the scene. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as he opens the passenger door of his SUV. I climb in reluctantly, my mind racing.

“You need to see this before you make any rash decisions. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. I’ll prove it to you.” He starts the engine, and we drive out of the city.

“What about my truck?” I ask, staring out the window as the cityscape gives way to open roads.

“I’ll have another officer take it to your apartment.”

I sigh, resting my head against the cool glass. Images of Allison flash through my mind. Her laugh, her smile, the way she always had my back. The loss crashes over me in waves, each one heavier than the last. We were each other’s rocks. When one stumbled, the other was there to pick them up. When one of us fought with someone, the other was there for backup with no questions asked. She was my soul sister, my best friend, and now she is gone. I will never hear her laughter, I will never see her smile. I will never have the comfort of her presence next to me as I achieve milestones in my life. I will never get to hold her babies or comfort her when someone breaks her heart.

Zach pulls into a gravel driveway, stopping in front of a small white house nestled in the woods. “What I’m about to show you stays between us. Do you promise?”

I nod. “I promise.”

“This is the reason why I know the Royal Bastards don’t have anything to do with Allison’s death or the missing women and children.” He climbs out of the SUV, and I follow.

We step out, and the dry heat hits me like a wall. The house looks cozy, almost serene, with a porch swing swaying gently in the breeze. Security cameras are mounted at every corner. Whoever lives here values safety. A swing sits in the corner, moving gently in the breeze. There is a throw blanket on one end and a steaming cup of coffee on an end table. Someone left in a hurry.

Zach knocks on the door. A moment later, a young woman opens it. She’s maybe eighteen or nineteen, her blue eyes waryas she takes us in. Her long blonde hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and leggings. Her bitten nails, some crusted with dried blood, tell a story of their own. She’s nervous as hell about us being here. My gaze goes back to Zach, and I give him a questioning look.

“Aerianna, this is Denise. Denise, meet Aerianna,” Zach says gently.

Denise doesn’t acknowledge my greeting. Instead, she focuses on Zach. “What do you need?”

“Can we come in for a moment?” Zach asks.

Denise hesitates, then steps aside. “Sure, but don’t wake the others. We had a rough night, and they need their sleep.” Denise opens the door to allow us in.

We follow her inside, past a warm living room and into a modest kitchen. The smell of cinnamon and coffee fills the air, making my stomach growl. Denise pours us each a mug and places cinnamon buns on the table. She sits, clasping her hands tightly, her posture guarded.

“Take a seat. There is a good reason why you’re here.” Denise states before sitting down.

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